After two months as an iron parts production manager, I graduated.
This should be one of the few times in my working years that I've directly quit naked, and I left right before the Mid-Autumn and Double Ten consecutive holidays. Most people would probably think it's a bit foolish, since I had already made it this far—pushing through a bit longer would have let me take the holidays together and get a few extra paid days off. But for me at the time, I truly couldn't hold on anymore.
Not long after joining the company, orders suddenly surged. From day one, I was working overtime almost every day, and I often had to come in on weekends too. In previous companies, at least weekday overtime came with pay, and weekend overtime had corresponding compensation. But this company's policy was no overtime pay for weekdays, and weekend overtime could only be swapped for compensatory leave. So during that period, I often felt like I was working six days and resting one. More realistically, even with daily overtime, the work never got done—it always felt like chasing a train, with more orders waiting after today's and tomorrow's batches.
At first, I didn't think about quitting. This job matched my four years of experience in steel industry production management, which was exactly why I took it. I even hoped to settle down in a familiar industry. But the workload never showed signs of decreasing, and my body started sending signals I couldn't ignore.
My right shoulder began to hurt—not just soreness. Later, a doctor visit revealed a rotator cuff injury requiring ongoing rehabilitation. The doctor asked if I regularly raised my shoulders for long periods. When I got home, I reflected seriously and realized that for the past two months, I'd been sitting at the computer for extended overtime every day. Being petite, the desk and chair heights weren't ideal for me, so my shoulders unconsciously lifted while using the computer. Over time, this likely contributed to the injury.
At that moment, I truly realized the cost of this job wasn't just a few extra hours each day.
I used to think a little extra work was fine—being young meant accumulating experience, and pushing through busy times was okay since things would ease after the orders. But if a job involves daily overtime, weekend work, and starts affecting your health, it can't be explained away as "just a bit busier lately."
Moreover, I saw no signs the workload would drop in the short term.
If I just pushed through a few more days until Mid-Autumn or Double Ten, I could have taken extra days off. But staying would mean ongoing shoulder deterioration, longer rehab, or even long-term physical issues. Whether those few days of vacation were worth it became hard to say.
So this time, I chose to cut my losses.
I know quitting naked isn't what most people expect, especially right before the holidays—many might advise, "You've lasted this long, just push a bit more." But everyone's tolerance for cost differs. The old me might have thought you should grit your teeth to the end for more salary and days off. Now, I'm more willing to admit my body is telling me it's truly exhausted.
Though short, these two months made me rethink something: jobs can be found again, money can be earned again, but an injured body needs time to heal.
So this time, I didn't make it through Mid-Autumn or wait for Double Ten.
It wasn't a sudden impulse from being overwhelmed. I finally understood that sometimes what matters isn't "whether I can still push through," but "whether I should keep pushing." When I couldn't see a future of reduced workload and saw my body already paying the price, leaving might be the responsible choice for myself.
Even though everyone, including family, doesn't understand, I know my body better than anyone. As the saying goes, as long as the green hills remain, there's no fear of running out of firewood. There are many types of jobs, but only one body.